Blood Ties
by Supaslim
Summary: Dan fails to show up for work. Rorschach investigates further.
1. Chapter 1

_Rorschach's Journal._

_June 7__th__, 1968 ._

_City is quiet. Vietcong's attacks have slowed down. War needs to catch breath, but will come back stronger. The street filth is also slowing down, but know it will never end. Nothing ever ends._

_Stopped convenience store robbery tonight. Culprit broke in with gun, took bag of chips and case of Coke. Was disappointed._

_Have not seen Nite Owl in four days. Am curious about wellbeing. Perhaps has been neutralized. Will investigate further._

Rorschach almost frowned as he scrawled out that last sentence. His partner was never out of duty this long. The longest period to date had been two days, and Rorschach had been told about that ahead of time ("First ever Superbowl, Rorschach! Chiefs against Packers!"). But this time, he had no word from the Nite Owl.

The vigilante slipped from his patch of shadows against the alley wall, and strode down a side street, towards an old warehouse long since forgotten by its original owners. Two rough-and-tumble looking gentlemen in the mouth of a narrower alley than the one he had emerged from caught a glimpse of his face and vanished, but he didn't pursue. Not tonight.

Inside the warehouse, behind dusty shelves and moldering crates, a rounded steel door was set into the wall Rorschach approached it, and pressed a small, unobtrusive button next to it. The door slid quietly open, powered by electricity leeched from the old city cables that had once sent trains thundering down this short stretch of tunnel. That was many years ago, though. Now, the tunnel only led to a tinkerer's basement, filled with wonderful gadgets a child could spend the whole day examining without losing interest. Rorschach himself had given it a cursory once-over, the first time he was down here, and it was enough for him.

He sidled silently past the owlship, Archie, which sat slumbering in the darkness. Nite Owl's costume was also in place, on the dummy in the small gap sunk into the wall. It made him question his theory that the Nite Owl was killed on the job, but he still wondered if he might have been kidnapped. It had been easy enough for Rorschach to follow him home, one night, so surely another more _sinister_ character could do it.

Like a phantom, Rorschach ascended the stairs. A light was on in Daniel's kitchen, and strange noses were coming from within. Clattering, as if kitchen utensils were being hurled around, and begging.

"Please- no! Come on…" Daniel seemed near tears. Bristling, Rorschach opened the door and emerged into the kitchen.

Daniel had his back to his partner. He seemed to be covered in what looked like mashed potatoes. And in front of him, sitting sullenly in a chair too big for him, was a kid, no more than five years old. He had unruly brown crop of hair, trimmed into a bowl-cut, and stubborn gray eyes. Rorshach paused, closing the door noiselessly behind him. The kid stared at him, suddenly lost for words.

"Haven't been working, Daniel," Rorschach said, turning his back on the undignified mess and helping himself to Dan's sugar tin. "Streets will be worse, soon." Daniel spun around, surprised. He hadn't heard Rorschach enter, and was hoping the boy had finally gotten his message. He hadn't realized that he was gawking at a masked man behind him.

"Damn it, Rorschach-!" He spun around again, and addressed the kid. "Don't tell your mother you heard me say that." He returned his attention to the vigilante in his kitchen momentarily, but then turned back one last time. "And don't tell her about _him_, either!" He jabbed in Rorschach's direction with a thumb.

"Illegitimate son, Daniel? Expected better from you."

"No! He's my sister's kid. My brother-in-law got into a car accident a few days ago, and she's in the hospital with him. She left Ben with me until she could take him again." Rorschach glanced at him over one shoulder.

"Have corn on your face."

"And potatoes on my shirt. And half a hamburger on my kitchen floor, because _somebody_ doesn't want to drink his milk." He gave a narrow-eyed glare to Ben, who was still stunned by the sight of a real masked avenger. Rorschach turned, and sat down at the table across from the child. Daniel watched, slightly nervous.

"Drink milk."

"You stink!" The kid wrinkled his nose bad-temperedly, and banged his fists on the table top. He didn't quite dare to throw food at this man. He was much more formidable than Uncle Dan.

"Drink milk. Good for you." Ben stuck out his bottom lip, and crossed his arms.

"_No!_" Rorschach made an irritated growling noise, and pulled a sugar cube from his pocket. He deftly unwrapped it, showed it to the kid, and dropped it into the milk with a _plunk_.

"Drink milk." Finally, the kid reached for the glass, and took a swig of the drink. And another. And Daniel only watched on, mouth hanging open. His volatile partner had just succeeded, in less than one minute and ten words, to do what he couldn't in nearly ten minutes under a constant barrage of food.

"Uh, Rorschach… How did you do that?"

The man with the inkblot face rose. "Kid drank milk. Let's go." Daniel actually took a step back, astonished.

"Ror-" Dan struggled for words, until finally he blurted "He's _four_! I can't just, _leave_ him here!"

"Hurm." Rorschach regarded Daniel for a minute, and then the kid. "Bring-"

"And I will _not_ bring him with us! Jesus Christ!"

"…Hurm." There was an awkward silence, and then a slurping noise as Ben drained the last of his milk.

"More?" The kid asked, holding out his empty glass. Without quite believing what he was seeing, Daniel poured him some more milk, and stared in wonderment at Rorschach as his nephew proceeded to greedily gulp it down.

"Really, though. How did you do that?"

"Kid likes milk. Doesn't like you." Dan's shoulders slumped.

"Ass," he muttered, wondering if he could slug his partner and get away with it. He glanced wearily up at Ben. "Don't tell your mother."

"Doesn't _trust_ you, Daniel," Rorschach clarified after a moment, hand over his masked mouth. "Wants parents."

"Really. How do you know this stuff?" Daniel stared hopefully at him for a moment. No reply. "…Fine. Be like that."

"Hm." Rorschach crossed his arms, and leaned back against the counter, staring at his partner's nephew.

"Well… Uh… I have him for another few days. Feel free to, uh, drop by and-"

"_No_, Daniel." Rorschach glared at him scathingly. "_Your_ nephew." Dan could have sworn Rorschach rolled his eyes in that moment. "Have work to do." And before Daniel could stop him, he slipped back through the doorway, down the dark stairs to the filthy hell outside.

"Ass… Don't tell your mother."


	2. Chapter 2

The night fell quietly on New York. The people retreated to their homes as the light was leeched from the sky, giving leave to a scant few to wander about the gloomy alleys and lean in dark doorways. A woman screamed somewhere, her voice echoing down the abandoned streets unheard. Nobody patrolled there, that night. The usual watchman had more pressing issues to deal with.

_Rorschach's Journal_

_August 14__th__, 1971._

_Have watched television for the first time in months. It is like the real world- during the day, clean and respectable, but at night, all that plays are dirty films and footage from Ireland. It's as if the New York filth has poured into their streets, forcing their people out into American harbors. Watched them pile off a ship yesterday. Dirty and thin, but smiling._

Rorschach paused in his writings, repositioning the stubby pencil in his left hand. He glanced up momentarily at the closed door at the end of the darkened hallway, and continued.

_Nite Owl has been missing in action since the 7__th__. Have asked around, but nobody has seen him. Am concerned._

Again he stopped, eraser hovering over the last word. After a silent debate with himself, he left it as was.

_Silk Spectre was last to see him. Says he 'bumped into her' while she was doing rounds. Says he seemed anxious. Believe somebody may have been following him. Have investigated house. Nothing is out of place._

He hastily tucked the journal away at the sound of a key scrabbling in the deadbolt. With one gloved hand, he turned out the only light he had on, vanishing into the shadows. There was a moment of silence, and then the door creaked open. A silhouette blocked the door, and then a second appeared, smaller than the first. Both were carrying suitcases. Rorschach recognized the larger as Daniel, but the smaller… He didn't know. And he didn't like not knowing.

Daniel flicked the light switch by the door to turn the hall lights on. They didn't respond. And how could they? Rorschach had removed the bulbs earlier that week, so he could observe anybody who entered without being seen himself.

"Bulb must be dead," Daniel muttered. "Doesn't matter. Just be careful you don't hit anything on your way in."

"'Kay…" It was a boy's voice. He seemed preoccupied. Rorschach didn't move from where he sat, choosing instead to watch things play out before emerging. They passed his chair in the dark, without realizing he was even there, and entered the guest room. Rorschach hadn't touched the lights in that room, and they worked just fine. The yellow glow shone out through the open door, vaguely illuminating Rorschach's still outline.

"Just make yourself at home," he heard Daniel say. "With any luck, you'll be back home with your par- with your mother soon… How about we have some hot chocolate before going to bed? What do you say?" There was a mumbled response, and the kid stepped out of the room, about to cross the hall into the kitchen. He froze though, catching sight of Rorschach _staring_ at him.

"_Uncle Daaan_," he wailed, eyes becoming improbably huge. Daniel rushed to the doorway, worried.

"What? What's wrong?" The kid pointed, mouth slack at the masked vigilante sitting in his uncle's armchair. He had his arms crossed and hat pulled low, and was al but oozing contempt. Daniel saw what the kid was pointing at, sighed, turned away, and then turned back again, squeezing the bridge of his nose.

"Seven days, Daniel," Rorschach growled in his cold monotone. Daniel pushed the kid across the hall into the kitchen, flicking on the lights.

"Help yourself to anything in the fridge, Ben," he muttered, and to Rorschach: "My sister got into a huge fight with her husband, and she's a complete _mess_. He left, and she asked me-"

"_Seven days_." There was a cold, unpleasant silence. It was clear Rorschach was less than happy with Daniel's actions, regardless of the cause.

Benjamin poked his head around the corner, sneaking peeks at the man with the inkblot mask. He saw his picture in the newspapers and the TV all the time, but what was he doing talking to Uncle Dan? The memory of three years prior, when he had been staying with Uncle Daniel for the first time, hid on the edge of his thought, never drawing to the surface. The whole thing felt like déjà vu to the eight year old.

"Would it help if I said I'm sorry?" Daniel was asking, making desperate gestures with his hands. His seemed frustrated.

"Could have said something."

"It was very sudden! I barely had time to pack up my things before I left!"

"Could have left a note."

"It slipped my mind!"

"Slipped your mind." Rorschach spat it back at him with disgust. "What you do _every night_ slipped your mind." He rose from his seat, and growled in Daniel's face. "You _forgot_ you had a partner."

"Sorry! It's- She's my sister! Family comes first, man!" The smaller man was quiet for a moment, covering his already-covered mouth with one hand.

"Not always," he finally responded, without any of the hostility he showed before.

"Yes, always! _Always!_" Rorschach recoiled slightly, not expecting such an outburst from his usually placid partner. "Jesus, Rorschach, what kind of childhood did you _have_, where you think family is unimportant?!"

"…Thought you were Jewish."

"Damn it, quit-"

"Was concerned, Daniel," Rorschach muttered, and brushed past his partner, sidling towards the front door. "See now you're okay. Take care of your family," he added impassively as he let himself out. "Can handle the streets alone." The door had barely snicked shut before Daniel was flinging it open again.

"Rorschach- I'm sorry. Really. I should have left a note or something, you're right." Rorschach, now just a shadow on the sidewalk paused. "I guess it just kind of gets to me, how you babysit me when I don't show up. Even though I know it's because you're worried."

There was a tug at Daniel's sleeve. Benjamin was standing there.

"_You know Raw-shark?_" he whispered, awed. Daniel hushed him, and looked up again at Rorschach, who was still standing with his back to the door.

"Still friends?" he asked. Rorschach turned slightly, as if surprised anybody would call him a friend. Daniel suffered a huge wave of pity for the man, which he carefully hid. Rorschach didn't want pity, never had.

"…_Are_ we?" Rorschach asked, as if seriously taken off guard by the question and unsure what to say.

"I think so," his partner replied thoughtfully "How about you come in. The only way to keep Ben quiet to his mom about this _now_ is to tell him everything"

"Hm. Everything? Even Twilight Lady?" Was that a smirk in Rorschach's voice?!

"Maybe not Twilight Lady," replied Daniel, mortified, and he stepped away from the door to let his friend in.


End file.
